Hello, Stranger
by Aeronous
Summary: Wouldn't you like to know what's real and not? [One-shot][Complete]


**Title: **Hello, Stranger  
**Author: **Erika N.  
**Rating: **PG-13  
**Character Focus: **Inuyasha and Kagome; A little bit of Kikyo.  
**Summary: **Wouldn'tyou like to know what's real and not?  
**Author's Notes: **This is my first attempt to write something like this. As _Inuyasha _progressed, I started look at the beginning of the show at a different angle and so…this was born.

**Hello, Stranger**

The brook gurgles, beats against the protruding rocks and boulders that stood between it and the mouth that dipped recklessly into a rushing waterfall. The birds are beginning to rouse from their slumber, stretching, airing out, and preening their feathers. And I smile a bit at the sight as they take flight and begin to spread their jubilant songs all around.

I comb my fingers through my hair, cringing at the cool wetness. Kikyo was long gone now and I, her allegedly loyal apprentice, stayed foolishly behind, observing some wriggly refection in the crystal-clear stream. I peek up at the demon staring broodingly down at me from atop of the precipice above, his amber eyes shining valiantly, his crimson outfitting smarmily complimenting his long, silver locks.

"What's your name?" I scream.

He does not answer, but instead flees.

I pull the white, bathing robe tighter against me, teetering helplessly on the verge of crying as my eyes stare, rooted to the now vacant tip of the rocky ledge.

--- 

She says that I am but a student snatched beneath her wing for training, but then she neglects the fact that her younger sister, Kaede, died by the ruthless claws of some demon drenched in blood-red and who unusually bore a head full of unstained silver. I didn't want to tell her that I'd set first eyes upon him at the local baths. _She'd be angry_, I thought. She'd be…heartbroken at the fact that that demon still lives.

I hobble across the rocky path, quite vigilant of the sharp rocks nipping at the bottoms of my toes and digging furiously into my heels with each step I took. The cool water in the bucket I am carrying is starting to slosh and splatter ubiquitously to the ground.

"Stop that!" I hear Lady Kikyo screech.

She runs up to me and wrenches the bucket handle from my sodden fingers.

"But I am still learning," I complain.

"And with such unruliness and backtalk," she snaps, "you may still be learning until the ends of thy days."

I whip around to face her; we are the same height. "Do you honestly think you're better than me?" I ask.

Her comeback is mesmerized by a sudden spell of silence. "Even though ye are a woman by standards of this village," she speaks venomously through gritted teeth as she lunges forward for the collar of my top and pulls me closer to her so that I might see the fire kindling in her eyes, "you are but a grasshopper struggling beneath my foot."

I gulp and she releases me, shoving me back a few steps.

"Kaede always said we looked alike." She gazed at me through alien eyes, eyes that may've been windows to a demon's soul, "But I see no likeness. All I see is a whiny wench who wants nothing but to be noticed."

--- 

I cry that night and the night after that and the night after that.

The third night finds me huddled in some dusty, foul-smelling corner of the hut that both Kikyo and I shared. She slumbers behind a billowy, reed flap nearby, the same place, I was sure, where she slept before the day of her sister's death.

She told me one day, when there was not a scrap of animosity gleaming in her brown eyes, that both she and her sister slept in the same hut because they were so close. It didn't take much to guess that she grew lonely at the thought of her sister's absence and opted to move me in to assuage that uncomfortable feeling.

I sniffle lightly and wipe my nose with the back of my hand, bringing my knees tight against my bosom and snaking my arms around them to sway gently back and forth.

"So you are but a wench, eh?" rumbles a deep and callous voice.

I find some comfort, some willpower, but shock overwhelms me. Immediately both slip between my fingers like the finest of sand. "W—who are you?" I whimper.

"Do you always question those who talk to you, wench?" rattles the voice again.

I look around. "You don't scare me," I tremble, "And I am not a wench. M—my name is Kagome."

"Ahhh. So you're not Kikyo's younger sister?"

"No. No I am not."

All falls silent. I stop swaying and peer up shakily at the thatched ceiling.

My heart stops. My breath slows into imperceptible pants.

I hear the scuffling of feet and rocks in the darkness. I try to close my eyes, to knock away the vines of fear snaking around my body and slithering beneath my clothes to shudder up my bare skin.

Alas, all proves futile.

---

The sun shows brilliantly in the sky, beaming.

Once more, I am told to fetch a bucket of water, which, evidently, is quite imperative for my training, but Kikyo decides not to tag along this time. I am sticking it out alone, sticking it out alone as I traipse deep into the forest, and sticking it out alone if that demon suddenly appears and decides to get rid of me just like it had Kaede.

I pause outside the yawning mouth of "Inuyasha's Forest," as every villager loves to call it. Just like I envisioned, it was very dark on the inside with very few speckles of light creeping in through the emerald canopy and falling down on the beaten path.

I swallow. Hard.

Hesitantly, I start to walk in.

To my ultimate gratitude, nothing happens during my journey. When I reach the broad opening in the center of the forest, I blow out a heavy, somewhat comatose sigh of relief. The air is thick with warmth now and I can feel it kissing up my bare neck, goading me to yawn.

_Nobody will miss me_, I ponder as I near the exceedingly thick and rugged tree that juts high up into the heavens. I sit the empty bucket down beside me while I lean against the massive trunk, watching the looming trees around me.

"Wow. It's so…beautiful out here," I whisper, dazed.

But my shaky and brittle fingers dare not brush this fear away, this fear of being watched, this fear of being torn into tiny little shreds and pieces.

"You're such a weakling," the trees rustle and whisper.

_W—what?_

My bones shake. My teeth chatter. My footing feels so unstable and liable to cave in on me as I turn around to watch the trees flutter and dance and shake and maliciously whisper. But they remain silent, like rumor-weeds caught red-handed, paralyzing their growth, afraid that the one person who caught them might shout their secrets aloud.

And that was exactly the first impulse that fleets across my mind once I hear his voice brush against my ears like sandpaper, making me wince feebly.

"Honestly, how can a woman of such medium-favor look so scared and tiny?"

"I am neither scared nor tiny!" I shout, "And if I do seem that way from your viewpoint, take chance that it might be because you are so smug and talk words that are so much bigger than you!"

A sigh rustles the leaves and joins the wind in a kiss to the grassy ground. "So what are you then," he asks, "A frail bug caught within my grasp or…a bee maybe who only wants to sting me once I close my fingers around you?"

"Neither," I reply sourly, wishing he'd come down and show his face and reassure the postulation burning a deep hole through my chest.

_He must be smiling, _it said, _A demon cannot talk in such a way without smiling deviously. _

"Shhhh." In unison, the trees sway with the gentle chase of the wind.

I take a step forward. Nothing lures me to venture further. But then comes warmth, overwhelm by the heavy scent of rain…musk…water…and earth…

My head lulls back…against a stiff pillow…against a shower of breath…against a waterfall of silver.

"Who are you?" I murmur.

His lips caress my ear like fire. "Yours," he says huskily.

---

Today felt dry, but damp. Worn, but sewn anew. Cracked, but well mended.

Kikyo is gone…and I am free for the day, the sun beating down upon my back as I start for "Inuyasha's Forest."

Strangely, I feel horded by happiness and pushed up against the wall by…something unknown. Just the thought of seeing the man who whispered so delicately in my ear…caused my anger to boil but a swift shyness to sweep over me…kindled a smile to my face.

"Who are you?" I let the question topple from my lips softly, "And…how do you make me feel like a tangle of emotions?"

Seconds merge into minutes. The minutes increased, but fail to reach an hour when I made it to the opposite end of the forest, where the creek burbles and the water shushes against the jagged rocks in a gleaming waterfall.

A matted blur of red and silver slithers into my vision. It stood on the precipice of one of the two rocks that forms a spout for the insistent waterfall, peering down pensively.

I walk up, feeling my eyes grow limp in modesty. "Tell me," I shout up to him, "Who are you?"

He hops down, an angel covered in a nimbus of both darkness and light. He smiles lightly as he approaches me, sizing up the priestess uniform gathering at my feet, falling lifelessly at my chest. He scrutinizes my hair with distance, but a strange sharpness in his amber eyes. Maybe because it is pinned up in a ponytail that holds some semblance to Kikyo's…

"Why do you walk in her shadow?" he suddenly asks.

"I—I'm not walking in her shadow," I stammer, "According to the village people, it is assumed that we just share looks, that's all."

"Keh! Whatever." He lunges for my hair, but I try to parry the action. He ends up getting it though, untying the ribbon and letting it flap sadly to the ground.

"W—what are you doing?" I push him back, but my hair tumbles.

He smiles and abruptly thrusts forward, grabbing my lips with his, embracing my hand with those long, calloused, claw-tipped fingers of his.

No. The smile never fades. And neither does the one that inches across my own lips.

But watching amongst the deceiving darkness, amongst the mendacious cover of trees, was my persecutor, whom I'd clearly signed a death warrant with. Her gaze holds steady as she notches a bolt against her bow and holds the tail firmly to tug the string back.

The birds take suddenly to the air in a barrage of squawks. Impulsively, I tear away from the sinking kiss, nearly tumbling to the ground from this weak feeling inside my knees. Duly though, strong arms catch me in a comforting, round cradle, one that may've been able to hold a child and possibly rock him off to sleep.

I close my eyes then, drinking in the moment, the relinquishing warmth. Only then do I let my mind slip, sadly to be brought back by a sharp whistle, a cold rip of cloth, and a raw scream. I gasp against the unwarranted rush of coldness that sweeps around me and slithers beneath my garments to embrace my bare skin.

Tiny, rheumy globules of red take flight like rose petals running free in the wind. And I could feel a tear or two prick my eyes, warning me that stability was too far off, too hard to obtain. I shake and tremble and gasp and widen my eyes in shock. I swear I feel a bolt of lightning roll down my back.

"In—Inuyasha!"

The mysterious man, the whisperer of little shyness, the summoner of great warmth, the angel of darkness and light, falls. Time slows and I think I spy an amused glint twinkle in his left, tawny eye.

I rush over, falling on my hands and knees, powerfully inattentive of how close I sit by his fallen form, his porcelain fingers, the rough cloth of his red-sewn sleeve, and the shiny, blindingly white yarn of his hair. I can only look, eyes weak with sadness, skin sagging with remorse, as his hair tickles the ground and wag-wiggles pathetically in the balmy zephyr.

He looks up at me. "See," he says, "you knew my name all along."

I curse the light grin illuminating my lips, thankful that it fades at the sight of the glowing arrow protruding from his right shoulder. I outstretch my hand, wondering if this can possibly be some twisted dream or some beautiful nightmare. The bitter, amethyst light melts away into inexistence beneath the caress of my fingers and the warm sunlight. My lips part at the play of rubies speckling the wooden arm of the bolt. I smooth my fingers down it, noting the slickness of it all as the rubies smudged together in a quilt of scarlet and brown.

In—Inuyasha wheezes out in pain, in what I ill-fatedly know is excruciating pain. I want to chastise my movements for being so slow and such skillful imposers of time. But when I feel the warmth of the blood oozing from his wound, I realize that they were only trying to save me from the knee-buckling inevitability.

I am scared. So scared that if I were to pull the arrow out that he would die, that if I were to leave it in he would die.

"Pull it out," he rasps and lifts his hand up in what I thought was an attempt to touch mine. But he knows the consequences and opts to just brush my knuckles with the pointy tips of his claws in lieu of his earlier intention.

I close my eyes and let my grasp tighten. I try to ignore the sickening, wet, ripping sound that the arrow provokes and pull harder and harder until I am sure there is no more reason to pull anymore.

He sighs. I drop the arrow to the ground, where it splatters a dry montage of crimson freckles and dessert dust, framed by a malformed circle of minuscule rocks. With little thought, I cradle his large head in my hands and drag it into my lap, uncaring of the moist clumps of red dirt staining my uniform. "Are you okay?" I murmur.

"Yeah," he replies, a ghost of a smile upturning his lips.

Suddenly, the ground crunches, and the arrow that I'd thoughtlessly discarded is picked up from amid the very tiny rubble.

I peer boldly over my shoulder, feeling a vibrant power push itself swelteringly against my backside, knowing exactly whom it was standing behind me.

"You know he slaughtered my sister, don't you?" Kikyo asks.

"Y—yes, I do, but…" I look down into Inuyasha's passionate, amber pools, "…but he couldn't have done such a thing. There's just something about…"

I hear the arrow snap and the pieces rain.

"SILENCE!" Kikyo booms, "He must've cast a spell on you."

"N—NO!"

"I should kill him right here and now." She nocks a bow.

I want to find the strength to lift him up and runaway, far away into a desolate land of brightness and dreams and fulfilled wishes and desires. But he finds it for me and gets up with such speed and agility that I take in a sharp, gulping breath. Before I know it, I can feel the wind whistling in my ears and see the reddish-brown blurs that I am so sure are gates and columns. But they all disappear into a plain of white stone and blotches of green and burnt brown.

A reckless jerk causes me to scream. I scrip-scrape across the ground with frightening velocity, just barely catching a sonorous roar.

I start to pant. I pick myself up slowly to find out just what is going on. The first thing I see is Kikyo, standing tall just feet away outside the holy shrine that held the…the…

"Jewel of Four Souls," I whisper dreamily.

Immediately, I am stunned by extravagant amazement at the blood coating Kikyo's shoulder and the darkness of rage marring her features. I let my eyes fall away from her to swerve upwards to a tall tree boasting an unconscious body of red and silver pinned to its massive trunk.

My lips tremble, my jaw goes rickety. A scream spirals into the air, "NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!"

---

It was late now and the sun was still gone for yet another long, trespass of ink-black darkness.

Kagome shot up in bed with a start, caked in sweat and pale with fear.

"Kagome, are you all right?" she heard her mother ask from the doorway of her bedroom.

"Y—yeah," she murmured uncertainly, clambering out of bed just as soon as her mother left to peer out of the nearby window. She observed the small shrine flooded in moonlight with vibrant intensity. Somehow, it looked just like an olden portrait smudged perfectly in darkness and throat-clenching horror.

She winced suddenly at the brief throb in her left side. She caressed it softly with her hand, giving it a fleeting, concerned glance before returning her attention back on the tiny shrine.

"Remember, Kagome," she heard her mother yell down the hall, "you have school in just a couple of hours!"

The volume of her reply was swallowed whole by her ponderings, "I—I know, Mama."

_A dream, _she thought wearily, _It was all just a dream. _

However, she was plainly unaware of the short-lived, amethyst pulse that came alive beneath her palm…


End file.
